apologies," he stated, still kneeling upon the floor. "I will have to be more careful."  His hair was dishevelled—great curly locks of jet black, and he laughed nervously as he brushed it from his eyes. He peered at her with eyes so black, yet so kindly, that Gretchen found herself blushing again and put a hand to her chest. The man stopped for a moment to adjust his shirt and coat, then stood slowly, and with the hint of a bow, swept past her and away. Unaccountably, she felt suddenly light-headed and sat down upon the floor by her books. His eyes! she exclaimed to herself with an outrush of breath. She felt that in an instant they had devoured her; had known all about her. She could not recall ever having seen such lively and intelligent eyes—so deep and black they seemed like windows opening onto a starlit sky. And his hand! when he placed the last book upon the stack—the nails so trim. His hands were almost feminine, and finely wrought. Gretchen gradually composed herself, then picked up her books and continued about her work. 

 Several times thereafter in the course of a fortnight Gretchen saw the same young man about the library, and they developed an acquaintance that began and ended with nodding pleasantly and wishing each other "good day". She thought him quite the most interesting patron she had seen in the library for... she knew not how long—perhaps never in the two years she had been there. He was flamboyant, certainly, Gretchen decided, but he had not that rakishness or arrogance that so often accompanies one who is as smart a dresser as he seemed. Her thoughts chanced to light upon him sometimes, and within the fortnight, she decided he must be attached to the university. Perhaps a professor—well certainly not a full professor, he was far too young and had not grown into that masculine stuffiness that comes with long tenure—and his physique was trim. No, she decided, he was probably a fresh young assistant to an elder professor. 

 "Gretchen, dear."  Miss Sadie's voice crackled behind her in a very strange manner and Gretchen looked around.  "I do fear I'm catching some contagion, dear," Miss Sadie continued in a whisper, "can you possibly mind the desk until closing?" 

 Gretchen hesitated for a moment. She had worked long enough in the library to feel at ease, and with classes already in recess for the Christmas holidays, there were few patrons.  "Of course, Miss Sadie," she answered.  "I do hope you're feeling better tomorrow." 

 "If not, I shan't be in," Miss Sadie replied in a very weak tone. "I'll—I'll try to send word." 

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